a pretty epigram. I don't know if you ever heard it: I'll suppose you never did, because it will fill up my letter: Give but Cupid's dart to me, Another Cupid I shall be; No more distinguished from the other Than Venus would be from my mother. Scandal says, Hedges thought the two last very like; and it says too, that she was not his enemy for thinking so. Adieu! Gray and I return to Lyons in three days. Harry7 stays here. Perhaps at our return we may find a letter from you: it ought to be very full of excuses, for you have been a lazy creature; I hope you have, for I would not owe your silence to any other reason. Yours ever, HOE. WALPOLE. 21. To BICHAED WEST. Turin, Nov. 11, 1739. N.S. So, as the song says, we are in fair Italy! I wonder we are; for on the very highest precipice of Mount Cenis, the devil of discord, in the similitude of sour wine, had got amongst our Alpine savages, and set them a-fighting with Gray and me in the chairs: they rushed him by me on a crag, where there was scarce room for a cloven foot The least slip had tumbled us into such a fog, and such an eternity, as we should never have found our way out of again. We were eight days in coming hither from Lyons; the four last in crossing the Alps. Such uncouth rocks, and such uncomely inhabitants! My dear West, I hope I shall never see them again! At the foot of Mount Cenis we were obliged to quit our chaise, which was taken all to pieces and loaded on mules; and we were carried in low 7 Hon. Henry Seymour Conway.